Sleep
by ms.j
Summary: You can get sleep and don't rest. A Oliver LeBeau and Becka Munroe pairing based on the Genext series.


Summary: You can sleep and not get rest.

Quick quide:

 _internal thoughts_

 **Telepathic conversation.**

Thank you and enjoy

* * *

Sleep

Becka LeBeau, née Becka Munroe, wished she could trust herself to fall asleep on her own.

But, too many thoughts rushed through her since the ceremony, she caused an unexpected late summer rain.

It poured on the beach they landed on and they spent so much time rushing, little else held appeal.

So, they collapsed on the king size bed and slept, or what she thought was sleeping.

She woke up in the middle of the night to find herself hanging off the bed. With a kink in her back, she stretched and turned to reach for her cellphone, allowing artificial light bought him into focus.

Oliver LeBeau, however, had the luxury of looking comfortable with an arm behind his head and his lips curved into a smile (curse his hide).

She sighed.

No need to wake him. She could be awake and miserable on her own. A trip to the restroom later and she found herself snuggling next to him hoping his nearness would be the ticket to Dreamland.

She woke up a second time with a strong arm hooked around her waist.

 _Protective much_? She thought, adjusting herself so she curled into him like a cat.

 _Maybe, just maybe_...

Oliver's sleepy voice snapped the night air. "Why don't you stop sticking me in my ribs, then you can fall asleep?"

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"No worries, love." He teased in a faux British accent, his own a mix of far western America and deep South. "Here."

Oliver held out both arms, visible by moonlight.

Becka slid closer and nuzzled her head into his chest.

"Much better." His approval wasn't missed. She felt his warm breath in her hair, his hand resting on her back.

"I figured it would be easier to sleep in bed with someone." Becka spoke to the night air. "Guess not."

"Ok," He groaned and sat up. "Now, I'm awake." Oliver's messy hair and wrinkled black suit came into view as if the lunar light provided a spotlight. "What's going on?"

"I can't sleep."

"Totally missed that one, Captain Obvious."

She pushed him. "Not funny."

"Not laughing. I was having the best dream."

"About?"

"You were there." He smirked.

"And?"

"I mean if you want details..." He ran a hand down her arm. "The amount of clothing involved would be far less."

Her face got warm. "So wrong."

"So right. Do you know how hard it is not to start snatching everything off you?" He indicated to the dress she had on.

"Yeah...well..." She fumbled over her words. Oliver had a point. Great, she frowned. Not that she failed to notice their close proximity or body heat or anything.

"Exactly. I am _that_ tired." Oliver, taking the lead as always, spoke. "How about we go back to sleep? That's step one in the plan."

"Ok." She took a deep breath and lay next to him, shifting herself so she held him like a teddy bear. Silence draped them for several minutes. Becka stared out the large picture window watching the curtains billow in the breeze when Oliver spoke again, whispering into her ear.

"Unless you need a little extra help getting tired..."

"Shut up."

She felt Oliver's lips curled up into a smile as he drifted off once again.

* * *

Oliver woke up when the sun tinted the sky in a ripe orange hue. A morning worth biting into.

He shifted and looked down at Becka, her head on his chest. Her arms tangled around his neck, the white diamond bands on her finger gleaming in approval.

He owed his sister Ray an 'atta girl' for her taste in jewelry and his dad, Remy LeBeau, a serious thank you for helping him find the perfect rings.

 _Oli, if you gonna make her an honest woman, your daddy gotta make sure you do this right._

And if he was honest with himself and God in this moment, last night scared the Hell out of him.

Nothing about the engagement scared him. His best man, Rico Richards, often joked about the amount of drinking Oli should have taken up just helping Becka stay sane. Wedding planning was a new thing for her, even with help from Rico's new wife Sati and Becka's bestie No-Name. He felt Becka's nervousness throughout the actual wedding and even into the plane ride to Florida. And with as many jokes he made about the honeymoon, Oli didn't push his 'blushing bride' into anything she wasn't ready for. (Lest his new bro-in-law Pavel kill him.)

So, why did he have trouble staying asleep?

Somewhere in the early morning, a scary reality smacked him: Becka Munroe trusted him with her heart so much, she married him.

And he, Oliver Raven LeBeau, feared he would come up short.

He stared at the ceiling hard enough to burn a hole in it: _How do I plan on giving someone a family whose never had one? How can she trust me if she can't close her eyes in peace?_

"Oli?" A sleepy voice pulled him back.

"Yeah?"

Her nose wrinkled. "Is something burnt?"

He glanced at the ceiling and saw it. Oh crap. A burn hole the size of a quarter. So much for avoiding extra hotel charges. "Not really..." He looked down at her, happy to change subjects. "How did you sleep?"

She rolled her eyes. "I think we both know the answer, Captain Obvious."

His memory was good enough to take him back to a few hours ago without one psych power. The fever pitch of tension finally broke when she couldn't close her eyes and he suggested an 'easy solution.'

He smirked and peaked at the discarded clothing. "I mean, it was a public service really."

Becka elbowed him before reaching over him to grab her cell from the nightstand.

"It's seven in the morning." She dropped it and groaned.

"What? Don't sound so sad." He rubbed her cheek with his thumb.

"I'm sleepy." She turned over and snuggled the pillow closer.

"Why thank you."

"Don't get cute." She insisted, but shifted closer to him.

"So demanding, so sexy." He squeezed her hips.

"I'm not entertaining this." She growled, turning to face him. Was she trying any less not to turn him on?

"But, when you ready for the show to start again-"

"I hate you, Oliver LeBeau." She warned, but the warmth in her eyes told a different story.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the lips. "I love you too."

Maybe it was the fact they did not have to ignore physical feelings anymore, no barriers of space or morality separating them because Becka returned his kiss with a fierceness even bigger than his ego.

"Wow."

"I expected more words from you." She teased.

"You leave a man speechless."

"Flirt."

"I learned from the best."

She looked over his shoulder out the window. "Did the weather get all weird from..." She looked both of them up and down. "...me?"

"I wasn't really paying that much attention." He chuckled softly.

She frowned, hints of embarrassment rolling off her. "You know why I'm asking."

"I'm sure the weather report will tell us if the poor people of Vilano Beach had a tsunami or something equally crazy." He turned her face toward him gently. "It's a gorgeous morning. I'm sure everything survived." He kissed her shoulder. "You did."

A soft smile graced her lips. "You're too good at this making me feel better thing."

"No need to flatter me."

"Sorry for being nervous."

"You were less than me."

She shook her head. "You're lying."

"Naw girl. I was terrified." He had to admit that. Sleep was an out for him too. "I just hide it better."

"Oli, you've never been scared of a thing in your life."

 _I'm scared of losing you._ "I did have a thing about monsters under my bed."

Becka shook her head. "I'm going back to sleep. And even the likes of you can't stop me."

"Challenge accepted," He teased giving the nape of her neck a kiss.

* * *

Becka's mind wandered to a week before her wedding when she went shopping:

 _"I'm nervous, No." Becka stared at the striped pink and white bag from the store in the mall. "I mean, I can't wear this stuff."_

 _"Why not?" No-Name laughed, her arm happily weighed down with shopping bags. Who knew the Neos like to spend cash?_

 _"I never really..." Great, Becka groaned. This was so embarrassing to explain._

 _No-Name's eyes jumped. "Never?"_

 _"No."_

 _"Wow. He's in for a treat."_

 _"No-Name!"_

 _Her friend laughed. "Don't panic. It isn't hard." Her friend covered her mouth. "Okay, that joke was too perfect to pass up."_

 _"I'll walk home-"_

 _"Wait, wait!" No-Name made a stopping motion. "Really, it's fine. In fact, he might like that." No-Name started walking closer to Becka, voice lowered. "The trick is to open your mind."_

 _"That's it? That's your great advice?"_

 _"He's a telepath right?"_

 _"Yeah. So?"_

 _"Exactly. Fantasize a little and you got it. Most girls want a dude to read their minds and you got a guy who can do just that._ _Like, literally can read it."_

 _"No-Name, you aren't helping."_

 **Becka, you're a million miles away.**

Becka looked up to find Oliver staring at her. "Huh?"

"I didn't mean to slid in there, but..." He stepped closer to her, people milling around them. "You okay?"

They had managed to get dressed a few hours later and stroll the tourists spots.

She wiped some sweat from her brow. And Florida was still hot.

"Sorry. Just thinking."

He stepped closer to her, their hips bumping as they navigated the crowd. Soon, they ducked into a tourist shop for smoothies and specialty hot sauces.

"You never asked me." Becka noted after a sip of her cool drink.

"Asked what?"

"What I was thinking."

He shrugged. "You're a big girl who can use her words."

They continued their shop browsing for another hour when she attempted to let him read her thoughts.

 **I'm thinking about last night.**

Her heart skipped a few beats as she waited for him to answer. When he didn't, she looked at the shoreline to mask her disappointment.

 **We can always repeat it.**

She glanced over at Oliver. The smug look on his face as he slipped his drink indicated he had heard her the first time.

 **You could've answered me the first time.**

 **Your straw kept distracting me.**

Becka rolled her eyes. **Got a million of those jokes, huh?**

 **Kinda hard not to think about it in public, Madam LeBeau**.

Becka threw her hands up. "Really, Oli?"

"Mama said if you don't have anything nice to say-"

 **Then, think of a suitable innuendo involving biting to throw your man off?**

He grabbed his mouth suddenly and grasped for air.

Beck patted him on the back, concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I almost choked to death from strawberry." Oliver gave her a dramatic look. "Died, Becka, _died_."

She shook her head. "You're fine."

They started walking again when he resumed conversation. "Why we you never this open?"

"Would that not have been too forward with the girlfriend thing, Oli? Hello, awkwardness all around..."

He stopped in front of her a few feet away from an open carriage.

 **Becka, I want you to trust me.**

Becka averted her stare for a moment. Great, now he had become serious, similar to an alpha watching his mate. A heavy feeling weighed her. **I do, Oli.**

He took one of her hands and touched it to his face. **Enough to forget the blade by your luggage while you sleep on the floor?**

Her stomach rolled. **They say old habits die hard.  
**  
 **Tell me what you want me to do.**

She looked ahead with feigned innocence. "Oh, look. We should ride the carriage."

Oliver's shoulders slumped.

Becka hated to be dodgy. She just liked _not_ being on edge for once.

He reached for his wallet and placed a few bills in the driver's hand. "Ok, we'll take a ride. "

"But where?"

"Wherever your wind takes us."

* * *

The wind, or the extra one hundred dollar tip Oliver slipped the driver, took them around the ancient city of St. Augustine for the rest of the day.

"Guess I'm not the only one thinking deeply."

Like that, he was no longer stuck on some astral plane in his mind, but back in the horse-drawn carriage with his lady love.

"Huh?"

"I was babbling on about a great dinner spot somebody told us about, but you mentally disappeared."

His face flushed deep red. "Oh man, I'm..."

"... going to buy me the biggest ice cream sundae because I'm awesome?"

He started at her. "Guess I better check my bank account." He reached for his smartphone.

Becka laughed. "I was joking."

"Oh, well then..." He slid it back into his pocket, annoyed.

"Until you offered."

Oliver groaned. Why was he struggling to pick up on her cues?

"You're so cute when you're flustered." Becka teased as she leaned over and pinched his cheek.

"I'm starting to think a different woman crawled into my bed last night."

She punched his arm. "Not funny."

"Nope." He rubbed the tender spot. "Still you."

The displeasure on her face sparked an angry wind that forced their hapless driver and horse to stop the ride for a moment.

"Ease up on the love taps until I get a little healing factor, okay?" Oliver hopped his puppy dog eyes were working.

On their last trip back toward the hotel, Oliver leaned over and rested his head on her shoulder. "I can tell what your favorite color is, but not your dreams. Why?"

Becka paused, shifting in her seat. "What does it matter?"

"I should know everything about you."

Silence floated between them when she finally gave him an answer. "Yellow."

"Yeah, I figured-wait...What? Yellow?" He lifted his head.

"Favorite color. At least, I'm partial to it." Becka answered.

He watched her studying the setting sun with great intent. "You don't like yellow."

Becka rolled her eyes. "My favorite color could be puke green and it wouldn't matter. Seriously, I don't care about it."

"You're a female. _All_ that stuff matters."

"I resent that."

"Yeah right. Our poor driver here, Jason, would have to deliver me to the nearest emergency room. I would like to think I'm not just married to a stranger."

A hollow chuckle from the driver's seat confirmed Jason must have overheard them for the last hour.

Once they reached their origin, Oliver trailed Becka as she marched toward their shuttle.

He reached for her arm. "Becka, really I'm sorry. Please, I just..."

She turned suddenly, wild light dancing in her eyes and arms folded. "Don't be sorry. Just apologize."

"I apologize." Oliver checked the sky for any crazy weather then reached for her hands. "Let's joke like we were earlier. Fun, flirty Becka keeps me on my toes."

"And pissed off, stabby Becka?" She pulled back.

"Keeps me talking to the Lord."

The orange hue started to disappear from her eyes. "I'm hungry and conch fritters sound delicious."

"Let's go." He hoped to avoid any more lightning storms.

* * *

Dinner became an easy, tasty affair as she dug into her plate of conch fritters. Once their dessert reached them, Becka allowed one thought to escape her.

 **I don't have dreams, Oli.**

A minute later, Oliver lifted his head from the half-eaten ice cream monstrosity they decided to split after the main course.

She let her spoon dangle from her fingers, aimlessly tracing the stars with her eyes.

 **So? Do you want to talk? Here?**

 **We can**.

He knitted his eyebrows tight. **What do you mean you don't have dreams? Everybody has dreams.**

 **Nothing's been permanent enough in life for me except school and this.**

 **Becka, the vows weren't a game.**

One glance in his face sealed that. Most people saw Oli as a goof and prankster when he wasn't leading their team. She got to see the other side: caring, protective.

"I don't doubt you, Oli."

With a slow nod, they resumed dessert in silence then left the restaurant. Neither one of them spoke until they reached the hotel room. He opened the door and waited for her to step inside.

Kicking off her shoes, Becka climbed in bed and sat Indian style. Oliver followed her lead and laid next to her, placing his head on her lap.

"Do you even trust yourself?"

Part of her wanted to push him off the bed, but she only pushed his hair back. "Not enough to really let go."

"And last night?"

Shs didn't need to fill the blank in. "That was-"

He traced the outline of the metal bands on her ring finger with his own finger. "...exactly what these rings meant. I got to share a part of you nobody else has."

Becka closed her eyes. The pleasure outweighed the pain and bitter memories of her past for a moment.

"It's so easy for you. You make life seems like a cake walk."

"Easy for me is being lazy and guessing chocolate is a flavor you like." He met her eyes with a deep gaze. "I don't call this moment easy. I call it terror."

"Terror?" She gulped.

"Doing the heavy lifting of keeping your heart. You deserved an easy life that didn't involve sleeping with a weapon after someone failed you."

Becka sniffled and glanced out their room window. "I don't blame my mom for leaving me behind."

"I know." **The things that disrupt your sleep bother me. I want you to be able to relax.**

Becka took a long cleansing breath. "Life was short in the Savage Lands. I had to train to defend myself, to exist. Now, at school, I realized I didn't live. I didn't have a plan. I was so jealous because all you guys had histories, families, aspirations. All I did was fight to survive."

"Tell me what you want me to do." He asked the same question from earlier with more intensity. "How can I help you?"

She equally hoped to avoid giving an answer and racing to the challenge.

"Help me build my dream once I decide what it is." Becka whispered in the dark.

"How?"

 **For now, don't go to sleep yet.**

Oli sat up and kissed her, gently tugging at her locks. "Yes ma'am."


End file.
